


A Taste for Small Pleasures

by MusingsOfSaturn



Category: Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain | Amélie (2001)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cozy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle, Post canon, Small Pleasures, cosy, little pleasures, not very smutty though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusingsOfSaturn/pseuds/MusingsOfSaturn
Summary: Amélie Poulain has spent years cultivating her taste for small pleasures. And, ever since the first kiss she shared with Nino Quincampoix, the list of small pleasures she has cultivated a taste for has done nothing but grow.
Relationships: Amelie Poulain/Nino Quincampoix
Kudos: 18





	A Taste for Small Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour! Not only is this my first time writing fanfiction for these two, but it’s also my first time writing anything remotely close to adult. Please, be kind. 👉👈 I sincerely hope you enjoy this little oneshot!

Amélie Poulain has spent years cultivating her taste for small pleasures. And, ever since the first kiss she shared with Nino Quincampoix, the list of small pleasures she has cultivated a taste for has done nothing but grow.

Much to her own astonishment, she has come to adore engaging in public displays of affection. Usually so reserved, so secretive, she takes Nino’s hand in hers proudly - screaming to the world “Look! He is mine, and I am his, and we are in love!” When they exchange tender words, or fleeting touches, or gentle kisses, she finds herself not caring that anyone around them will see. In fact, she almost thinks she’d like to invite them to stare.

She still enjoys the sensation of dipping her hand into sacks of grain. The seeds are cold, but they yeild to her hand’s intrusion, and the feeling of them sliding against her skin is just as satisfying as the first time she experienced it.

She delights in the feeling of Nino’s lips on hers, and takes the opportunity to enjoy that feeling any chance she gets. She likes to kiss him as though they have no need for air and oxygen. She likes to get so lost in the feeling of it that they become lightheaded, and have to part for a moment to catch their breath, foreheads pressed together and arms wrapped around each other.

It has become a Friday ritual for them to take a teaspoon to crack crème brûlée together in the evening. Silent, they indulge in the sound of sugar being broken, and the first mouthful of a truly remarkable dessert.

Perhaps her favourite of her new little pleasures, she loves the sound that escapes Nino’s throat when she kisses and nips at the flesh on the small of his back. It had been quite accidental the first time; she was only exploring. Every time after that had been completely on purpose. She’d listen as she placed soft lips to his skin. It wasn’t a gasp, not a sigh. Gently, she’d take some flesh between her teeth. She wouldn’t call it a moan, or a groan either. She’d release him, only to press another kiss to the place she’d just bitten, and resolved to listen again next time. One day she’d put a name to the noise he made; a secret sound just for Amélie.

She still skips stones at St. Martin’s Canal. Once, she had tried to teach Nino how to do it, so that he might join her. He was not very good. But, he said that he enjoyed watching her, and that was enough for him, so he still accompanies her to the bridge happily whenever she invites him.

And of course there is the pleasure that she thought men were incapable of giving her. How wrong she’d been. There could be nothing more pleasurable to Amélie than long nights spent tangled in sheets with Nino Quincampoix. How could there be anything better than experiencing their closeness, the intimacy that comes from knowing another person like _this_?

To Amélie, their lovemaking sounds like a song - all breathy moans and groans stifled in a kiss and whispered words of affection and love. The heady scent of sex fills the room, overwhelming her senses. She sees the sheen of sweat over Nino’s beautiful skin, watches as his eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. And she feels his hot flesh under her fingers, around her waist, and inside her body.

And as all of these sensations come together into one glorious moment of white-hot stillness, she is floating, and there is nothing anyone could do to bring her back down.

Afterwards, as her body relaxes, and Nino presses tender kisses to her neck, shoulders, and chest, she considers her list of small pleasures in an effort to refocus her mind.

And as she considers her list, Amélie Poulain thinks that perhaps this certain pleasure deserves a list all to itself.


End file.
